


Things left unsaid

by dorina16able



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chapter 90, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Marlowe is alive, Scout Hitch, Spoilers, i ship them so hard, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 09:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorina16able/pseuds/dorina16able
Summary: The day Hitch sees Marlowe again after the battle in Shiganshina is the day both realize that they need to sort out everything that was open between them. Canon Divergence





	Things left unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3am in the morning here and instead of sleeping I wrote this fic :P God, I love Hitch and Marlowe's characters, so glad we get to see them in the anime again, so this canon divergence fic is for them and my OTP JeanSasha.
> 
> The story contains SPOILERS for Chapter 90 and mentions of the Battle in Shiganshina.
> 
> I didn't think it would end up being so long, so bear with me and my fluff :P
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Attack on Titan universe and characters.

Hitch almost stops walking when she sees Marlowe standing there, in the centre of the room. He hasn’t spotted her yet, since he has his back towards her and is talking with Jean and another soldier she hasn’t met—Floch, she thinks his name is according to the murmurs of those who have been invited to the ceremony in honor of the ten surviving members of the Scout Regiment. The others are nearby; Hitch can see Connie and Sasha on a bench against the wall, the latter with a bandage around her forehead; Mikasa, Armin and Eren are standing next to a pillar and talking quietly; Levi and Hanji— _Commander_ Hanji now—are on their own, occasionally throwing concerned looks towards the teenagers.

But right now Hitch doesn’t pay attention to any of them, she’ll have plenty of time to talk to everyone later. At this moment her gaze is focused on one single person, studying every small detail that can reveal her some clues about what happened in Shiganshina…clues no military report can narrate, like the small wince he leaves sometimes or how his hand travels to the bandage on the right side of his head or how he holds his side like it’s painful for him to stand. All these clues about how close he came to death, about how he and Floch are the only survivors of the suicide attack Erwin Smith led…about the horror that packed her when she first learned the news and no one could tell her for sure whether he’d made it out alive.

 _You’re here. You’re still here, you’re alive, you’re really alive_ , she mentally addresses him and she feels a weight on her chest, as if she’s one step before bursting in sobs of relief, although her expression remains emotionless, her true thoughts staying hidden in her mind.

“Hey there, heroes of the walls,” she draws attention on her with her greeting, making sure that her voice doesn’t betray her emotions; that it has the teasing and slightly ironic tone it usually has.

But when everyone turns startled towards her and Marlowe’s dark eyes focus on her, widening in silent shock upon seeing her, Hitch almost feels her courage abandoning her and she thinks she’s close to collapsing on the ground, overwhelmed by his presence and the assurance that he came back alive. Now an unexpected and unexplainable warmth joins the weight on her chest and shivers run down her spine. Longing, protectiveness, relief, despair, happiness build a crazy dance in her and the only thing she wants right now is run in his arms, bury her head in his chest and forget everything and everyone around them. She almost gives in to this longing, raising her hand in a subtle gesture, wanting to place it on his cheek to make sure that he’s really standing there.

But then the surprise on Marlowe’s face is replaced by an annoyed scoff that makes her suppress this urge, although she gives her best to at least keep her composure and her smile as her mind travels her back to that fight they had the day Marlowe left Sina to join the Survey Corps. He had misunderstood her words—words that had come from a worried girl—and he had told her in return that his improving opinion of her was nothing more than a deception.

Hitch almost lowers her head at this memory because Marlowe was always like that. He could praise or support her with his words one moment and make her feel like absolute trash the next second…he can be quite cruel if he wants to and no matter how hard Hitch tries to appear as courageous and superficial, she knows she’s fighting a lost battle with this arrogant bastard…because she knows too well that she’s not strong at all, no matter what everyone thinks…and Marlowe knows it too.

She’s always admired him for this brutal honesty of his and at the same time she’s always hated him for the exact same reason, because who does he think he is, confusing her in such a way and still making her thoughts circling around him?

_You know how to hurt me, Marlowe…You’re the only one who really can hurt me…and I’m sure that this suicide mission you survived didn’t change that._

_But guess what. For once I don’t give a damn!_

 

Her sudden arrival has put Marlowe in a really awkward and difficult position. Truth be told, between his recovery, the testimonies he had to give to the military officers and the queen and the journey to receive his medal, he hasn’t had the time to think about Hitch properly except for some nights when he can’t sleep due to the pain in his injuries. Seeing her so abruptly in front of him is something he didn’t calculate and now he has lost his words and only stares coldly at her, trying to keep his emotions at bay…trying to stop himself from closing her in his hug, assuring her that he’s safe and telling her everything he has in mind…everything that had crossed his thoughts when he believed he was a goner.

But the way she looks back at him, shocked and slightly ironic like always, combined with her sarcastic greeting, helps him block these thoughts for the moment and remember their last conversation with the same bitterness he had felt when they had made it.

_She’s shocked to see me because she thought I’d die…because she thought I was too weak to survive the Recon Corps._

_Just when I had started thinking that maybe…._

_But it doesn’t matter now, does it?_

A nudge at his side lands him to reality and he notices Jean, Sasha and Connie staring pointedly at him, the latter with a sly grin and ready to throw a witty comment, although Sasha lightly punches his arm to stop him from doing so, the girl realizing that this is serious. Marlowe sighs, not surprised by their reaction; these three were the first to tell him what a huge idiot he is, back when he narrated that awful fight with Hitch when he first joined. But he can’t handle this, seeing her as if nothing has changed, with her cat-like face and her short hair and that captivating smirk of hers, apparently indifferent and ironic and yet with a sweetness that always made him feel warm.

Jean saves the situation, realizing that neither Marlowe nor Hitch are thinking clearly and wanting to help them. He doesn’t know himself why the hell he feels so supportive towards these two stubborn idiots…why on earth he wants to solve the tension between them.

Maybe it’s because he considers Marlowe a friend, since the two of them share the same moral code, despite the fact that the guy seems to be as suicidal as Eren.

Or maybe it’s because he can understand what emotional turmoil Hitch is going through; seeing the one she cares about after a battle that eliminated the entire Survey Corps save for the ten of them. He hates to admit it, but it’s the exact same turmoil he faced after the battle and he was sitting next to an unconscious and heavily injured Sasha, in immense agony about whether she’d be alright and with regrets tormenting him…regrets about all these things he wanted to tell the Potato Girl…about everything he kept unsaid out of fear of getting more hurt in this messed world.

“Hitch…You came,” he says in the end while nodding his head and slightly smiling at the girl; a smile of assurance and encouragement to act on her feelings. His voice is calm, steady, the complete opposite to Hitch and Marlowe’s state; like a strong presence they can rely on in this storm of contradicting thoughts.

“I’m here to see all of you get your medals. I did play a big role in this revolution, you know.” Hitch replies, her voice a mix of sarcasm, humor and bitterness, her eyes still locked on Marlowe, who returns her stare with his cold gaze. “And to make sure that what I heard is true…So, it seems that you actually managed to stay alive, Marlowe, eh?”

“Sorry to disappoint you and not prove your point that I’m too incompetent for the Scouts.”

Now Hitch can’t hold her gasp back, receiving Marlowe’s comment like a slap on her face and feeling the urge to burst in sobs again. She was only trying to keep her wits with that last comment and she never, _never_ meant that Marlowe’s too weak. It seems, though, that the words she said on that day still hurt him, hence why he takes it out on her.

“If you want to take your revenge and hurt me, believe me, you’re doing it already,” she tells him, mentally congratulating herself for not showing anything, despite the emotions overwhelming her in all their cruelty. “For your information, though…I never considered you weak and I never wanted you to ‘prove my point’.”

_I was wrong to tell you that the Scouts and all this danger isn’t for you…and believe me, it’s the first time I’m happy to be wrong._

For one moment she thinks she hears a whispered “That’s exactly what we told him, god dammit” from Sasha’s side, but when she throws her a side glance the brunette quickly averts her gaze, pretending that she’s not interested in the conversation.

“Well, nevertheless, Marlowe here stayed brave even when he thought that everything was lost, right, man?” Jean interferes before these two start an argument, clapping his friend on the shoulder and keeping that reconciling smile of his. He can’t help but chuckle when Marlowe throws him such a deathly glare, that he’d be dead on the floor if looks could kill, and instead he turns towards Floch to back him up. “Right, Floch? Tell her.”

“Um, guys, I’m still here, you know, so will you stop with this—“ Marlowe starts, more and more embarrassed by the turn this discussion is taking. Besides, he doesn’t want Hitch to know anything about how he survived. She didn’t trust or encourage him when he needed it the most, when he needed someone he was close to in order to fully process the fact that he had enlisted to the Recon Corps.

_And what did I get instead? Insults about being too weak to make it out alive. So don’t you dare support Jean’s claim, Floch, or I swear—_

“Despite being a fresh emergency recruit, just like me, Marlowe here did a good job of unifying us all. It seemed hopeless out there. The Survey Corps was on the verge of being wiped out. Even when we were all terrified to the point being useless, he was the one guy who never stopped encouraging the rest.” Floch, apparently, doesn’t have the ability to read Marlowe’s mind and therefore describes his contribution in all its detail. “He truly acted amazingly.”

_Oh, great, now what will she say? Something smart, I bet, about what a suicidal maniac I always was, about how I never thought about hiding in the face of danger._

Hitch is listening to Floch and Jean and a wave of joy and pride threatens to pack her; right now the urge to hug Marlowe as tightly as she can is stronger than ever. And she’s filled with regrets for how their last conversation had gone…it could have been their _last_ conversation and the last thing Marlowe would have heard from her would be bitter words of concern. But as she hears about his bravery in the frontlines, the boys’ narration mend the pain, ease the guilt and leave only that amazing feeling behind, that happiness someone feels when a loved one returns to them safely.

But she still can’t express all this, not when Marlowe is looking at her so emotionlessly, silently challenging her to say one of her usual ironic remarks. It’s always been like that with him; it always seemed to her that every single word of his was a personal challenge, not only to her, but to every member of the Military Police.

_Oh, how wrong I was…You’re truly made for the Scouts!_

That doesn’t mean, though, that she can’t return his challenge…that she can’t show even a small bit of what she’s truly feeling.

“I know. I know all that, I know how amazingly he acts in difficult conditions,” she whispers seriously in the end, lowering her head and following Jean and Floch’s example, talking as if Marlowe isn’t even here. “I know…I think…that’s why he never listened to a word I said!” she adds, her voice now louder, angrier, like an outburst of the fear and despair she experienced while he was away. She raises her head now to look at him and she feels a small satisfaction at the fact that he’s staring at her as if her words have caught him off guard. “Isn’t that right, Marlowe? Always being all high and mighty, talking about changing the world, scolding us as if you were the only good guy in the squad and the rest of us corrupted minions!”

“You know very well that this never was my intention, Hitch!” Marlowe thanks his anger, for it helps him take everything out, the fear he felt when he thought he would die, the hurt her words caused him, the despair and joy to see her again and be unable to show it. “As for what you said, did you really think—“

“No matter what you said, Hitch, he must have regretted even going there! Isn’t that right, Marlowe? Tell her! Tell her that you regretted joining when you thought we’d all die!” Floch interrupts her, the tone of his voice now having something else beside anger…something that Jean would describe as smugness, as if he’s proven right for some reason.

He worriedly looks at Marlowe and Hitch, who both seem to be at a complete loss of words after Floch’s outburst. A part of him wants to beat the living daylights out of his new comrade, but another part can’t help but think about everything he said. He wasn’t present at the attack that almost cost Marlowe and Floch their lives, but he recalls his own thoughts after the 57th Expedition and after learning that Squad Levi had been wiped out.

_Is this a thought every Scout makes at some point? Temporary regret when it comes close to death? A regret not even the wish to fight for humanity can prevent from coming in our minds?_

_Seeing you join the Scouts and being worried about you is one thing_ , Hitch thinks and now her eyes get wet due to the tears. _But seeing you join the Scouts and suspecting that you had a moment of regret? That’s a whole new torture._

 _There were no regrets during what I had thought were my last moments! No regrets at all!_ Marlowe clenches his teeth together, trying to block Floch’s last comment. _I had only you in mind, how you fared in Sina and whether you continued your normal routine, don’t listen to Floch, he’s just tormented by everything we lived!_

“Well…thanks, guys.” Hitch waves at them in the end and turns her back to go and find her seat in the room the ceremony will be held, unable to deal with more revelations and emotions; right now her wits are her only defense. “I’ll be the one laughing if any of you mess up at the ceremony.”

The moment Hitch is out of earshot and Marlowe sits down next to Sasha, head leaning against his hand to comprehend what has just transpired, Jean grabs Floch’s arm, determined to make his point clear. But as he starts arguing with him and telling him that the Scouts didn’t deceive anyone, much less the hopeful newcomers who had joined, his gaze meets Sasha’s…and he feels that protectiveness and relief overwhelming him again, that urge to hug the young girl and keep her safe from all danger.

And at the same time he finally understands why he wants to stand by Hitch and Marlowe’s side.

Because it’s that look…that haunted and depressed look he saw in Marlowe, the same one he sees in Sasha. It’s the look of someone who escaped death literally at the last minute and is now filled with regrets for everything they wanted to say and didn’t because of their fear for tomorrow.

And no matter the revelations, the hardships and the battles that are to follow, Jean isn’t planning to allow more regrets to poison them.

 

“Both of you are suffering. Stop this! Go to her, talk calmly, sort out this mess between you and, for God’s sake, stop being idiots, you two!”

Marlowe stares surprised at Sasha as they stand at the corridor that leads to the rooms the Scouts have been given for the night. Ever since he joined them he’s really liked the friendly and optimistic Potato Girl, but now there’s something different on her, a strange maturity and anger in the way she looks at him, as if her injuries have made her realize some things. To be honest, he can’t understand why she’s so supportive of Hitch—she’s been so ever since the two of them helped the Recon Corps, back when Marlowe was still in the MPs. He wonders now if Sasha can see Hitch’s good side, the same side Marlowe used to see before that dreadful day when she pretty much called him useless and inadequate for the Scouts.

“Oh, no, no, don’t give me that look, Marlowe, it may work on Hitch, but it’s not working on me!” Sasha continues and now her eyes are sparkling, as if she’s ready to literally smack some sense into him.

“What look?”

“The look that you don’t know what I’m talking about! You know that I’m right! Jean, Connie and I have been telling you for ages that you simply misunderstood that damn conversation. But, anyway, it’s not my place to tell you all that. Just…before jumping to any conclusions…please, please, just…just talk. Allow her to explain and explain to her as well, fight, argue, hug each other, I don’t know, it’s up to you, just…just don’t leave any things unsaid, not anymore, not…”

_Not after almost dying, not after missing all these chances, not when the future is so uncertain._

Marlowe understands the meaning behind Sasha’s words better than she thinks he does; after all, both of them almost died in that battle and know what it is to think about everything they didn’t do. And now he understands why everyone in the regiment is so fond of her, there’s something in the way she encourages everyone, in the way she can be serious and still compassionate.

“Anyway, don’t bother yourself with our nonsense,” he tells her now and gently pats her arm and ruffles her hair, making her haunted expression relax and be replaced by a slight smile. “You go to rest, you need to recover.”

“Yeah, I’ll leave you two to talk…but who said anything about resting?”

“What do you mean?” Marlowe asks her in a whispery voice as she already takes her leave, although she turns towards him with a sad gaze that holds something like hope and determination.

“I have my own mess to sort out, Marlowe.”

 

_“Hitch, it’s okay to be scared for his life. It’s just that…that you both need to talk openly to each other so this stupid misunderstanding won’t hang between you anymore.”_

_Easier said than done, Sasha_ , Hitch thinks now as she rubs her eyes, although the tears continue running down her face, making her shoulders shake due to silent sobs. She’s been in that position for what seems like hours, bursting out everything that’s been plaguing her since that morning, feelings she suppressed for so many days: her argument with Marlowe due to some misplaced words, her worry about whether he’d survive the expedition in Shiganshina, her burning terror when she learned that he got injured, his cold behavior towards her when he saw her before the ceremony.

The most irritating thing is that she can’t stay angry at him for all that; she doesn’t know whether this understanding is due to the fact that he was one of the two sole survivors of Erwin’s suicide attack or due to something else, deeper and more terrifying, but it’s the truth and she has to admit it to herself. Even Sasha saw it, when she noticed her crying her eyes out in her room and came to comfort her because, apparently, this girl has supporting others as a personal goal.

“Hitch?” A soft voice breaks the walls she has built around her to shield herself, breaking the fog her sobs have created in her mind and she raises her head, eyes widening at the sight of Marlowe slowly kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in his and gently caressing her knuckles.

It’s a sweet gesture, something she wouldn’t expect given that they didn’t part on the best of terms…but, in the end, that’s who Marlowe is, who he always was. Harsh with his words, but showing her kindness and compassion even when the rest of their comrades in the Military Police made fun of her and even implied that she was accepted in the regiment through other means and not through hard work.

Marlowe always defended her when those rumors reached his ears…why? Where did this instinctive trust towards her come from, especially when she was rude and ironic to him most of the time?

He’s so difficult for her to understand…yet she has accepted that he’s one of the few people she can trust and rely on completely, without any doubts. And, she has to admit, this caress on her hands makes her feel so warm that any barrier between them crumbles in an instant. She tugs at them experimentally, testing the waters, and he allows her to place their joined hands on her lap, without breaking his grip or stopping his strokes.

“Hey…” he only whispers when he notices he has her attention, his eyes meeting hers, seriously, without a smile; and Hitch herself is unable to avert her eyes from him, although she scoffs when she notices the painful wince he tries to hide.

“Sit down, you idiot, or do you wanna injure yourself even worse?” She hisses, rolling her eyes at his recklessness—first he’s all kind and focusing on her comfort and then he doesn’t care about his recovery?

Marlowe can’t help but chuckle at the sound of these words…that’s the good old Hitch he knows, showing her worry not through gentle comments, but through ironic scolding. Still, she’s right, the bandage on his side pulls at his stitches and crouching down like that isn’t helping. Slowly, carefully, he stands and sits beside her, so close that their arms are actually brushing against each other, hands still joined on her lap.

This gesture, with the sudden and sweet intimacy it has, feels so right that Marlowe has the impression that their argument before his transfer occurred years and not weeks ago; like a distant memory, present, but without affecting them anymore.

“You’re not planning to leave, right?” Hitch’s question, so fearful and so contradicting her usual confidence, catches him off guard and he tries to find her gaze, although she has lowered her head. “You’re still recovering, you could have been killed…yet you’ll stay with the Scouts…right?”

_What on earth…? Hitch, just when I’m ready to talk…you still think I want to kill myself? That I’m not enough for the Scouts?_

“I knew it. I realized it when the news about the suicide attack came. You’re staying…no matter the dangers…because it’s the only way for you to truly make a difference in this war.” Her next statement, like an answer to his thoughts, may be surprising, but holds so much understanding that the young boy feels warmth travelling through him...it’s like she’s saying she supports his decision even if she’s scared for his life.

“I thought about you, you know. When we rushed towards the Beast Titan, when…when we basically willingly rode to our deaths. I wondered whether you were sleeping at this moment and how you were in Wall Sina…how you were holding up.”

Now Hitch can’t suppress the tears that stream down her face and the only thing she can do is lower her gaze to the floor, embarrassment making her blush vividly as she feels like an idiot…Marlowe could be dead right now and what he thought were his last thoughts were about her…and she’s here, crying her eyes out like a baby and too weak to say everything she has in mind.

“As if I could sleep with you risking your neck for your noble goal, not knowing whether you’re alive or not,” she says nonetheless while wiping her tears, because she knows she owes him that much…if he is willing to put aside the hurt their argument caused him, then she needs to set aside her own pride as well.

The hug comes suddenly, unexpectedly, almost scaring Hitch as she feels Marlowe wrapping an arm around her and bringing her closer to him so that her head can rest on his shoulder. And this gesture, tender, loving and forgiving, breaks her last resistances, making her lean in his embrace and pour everything out as her shoulders shake due to the sobs; she whispers about how worried she was all these days, how terrified when she learned about Marlowe’s serious injuries, about how she wished day and night to see him again, make sure he’s okay and apologize for everything she said to him before his departure. Quiet confessions of everything she had in mind…everything she left unsaid until this moment…everything that, had he died, would have been lost forever, hanging in the air like words never uttered.

And Marlowe himself, as he sees Hitch in this state and feels her trembling in his arms, doesn’t hold back and speaks as well, following Sasha, Connie and Jean’s scolding and advices, comfortingly kissing her temple and the top of her head, his hand soothingly caressing her hair. He tells her how sorry he is for scaring her so much, how her thought gave him strength in his weak moments, how grateful he is for the fact that she always keeps him on his toes and how he didn’t actually mean what he told her before, about him being disappointed in her.

Hours later, when the sky starts turning from dark to grey as a sign that dawn is near, Hitch finds herself standing in front of the window, her forehead pressed lightly against the cold glass and her eyes occasionally travelling to Marlowe’s sleeping form. A small smile creeps up her face at his calm expression, as if his burdens have stopped torturing him, as if his injury isn’t bothering him so much anymore. It’s a sight that gives her faith and strength for the trail of thoughts she’s been following for the past hours, trying to fight her fears and make a decision that will change her whole life and will throw her in the middle of the battles and the dangers she wanted to avoid when she joined the Military Police.

_Of course I’m still afraid. I won’t stop being afraid. But this terror…with Marlowe on the battlefield and me waiting for news, not knowing whether he’s alive…I can’t go though it a second time._

_Did everyone else go through that too? Sasha, Kirstein, Floch when he transferred…Did they knew from the start they wanted to join the Scouts? Or did they go through a series of dilemmas and concluded that this was the path they wanted and needed to follow?_

_And what led them to their decision in the first place? Lost friends? A stupid sense of justice? Or a suicidal wish to eliminate all Titans, like the Jaeger boy did?_

She stares out of the window again, at the sleeping capital of Mitras, and remembers her enthusiasm when she graduated in the top ten of her trainee corps. She recalls how she blabbed about the luxurious life she would lead in Wall Sina and how everyone would respect her. But then she also remembers her disappointment and anger when she found out how her superiors treated the recruits…assigning them every single task and mission they had so they could be all lazy, drinking and playing cards all day.

_Hell, I knew from the beginning the MPs weren’t as perfect as I thought. But that doesn’t mean I wanted to change everything like Marlowe…was this why he transferred to the Scouts when he had the chance?_

_And during their battle in Shiganshina, the Military Police continued their routine without even caring about what was going on. Damn it, they didn’t even care that the vast majority of the regiment was killed, save for ten people._

It’s weird, she thinks now as she combs her hair with slow moments, almost as if she wants to delay the inevitable…to enjoy a few more moments of selfishness before facing all the terror that’s surely waiting for her. Still, it’s like Marlowe’s injury and the MPs indifference makes her see the faults of her current branch in all its ugliness…like she can’t make excuses for them or even turn a blind eye. And the feeling of disgust that overwhelms her at the realization, the feeling of not being able to breathe, is so sudden that it’s a miracle how calm she is right now.

“Hitch?” Marlowe mumbles when he feels her sitting beside him and running a hand through his hair and across his face, his sight blurred because of the sleep. “Where you going?”

The girl smiles at the question and how innocent it sounds…right now Marlowe isn’t a soldier who has survived from a very harsh battle, but a boy who’s afraid to see her leaving this room…as if he fears that she’ll return to her previous behavior in case she leaves. She doesn’t want to reveal her intentions to him—he needs some more hours of sleep and it’s something she has to do alone, now, before everyone else wakes up, so she can contemplate the consequences of her choice before facing the others.

But she knows she can’t go without giving him a sign, not when he’s just forgiven her…not when he played such a major role in her decision. So she squeezes his hand, leans down and gives him a very soft kiss; it’s full of emotion, gratitude and tenderness—feelings she rarely displays openly, but which she reserves only for him. She can feel him returning it, sleepily, gently, full of confusion and questions, and she smiles widely: it’s like the slightest doubt is diminished at this moment and determination joins her initial anxiousness.

“To do what I should have done a long time ago,” she replies to his question and her answer has something final.

 

“It’s dawning. Time passed quickly.”

“Yeah, I guess it happens when we talk all night. But we’ve examined every single aspect, Jean…you know the final conclusion is only ours to make…whether we’ll be strong enough.”

“Strong enough? You think distancing myself from you was easy? You think I didn’t feel guilty?”

“Did it help you the way you thought it would help? Distancing yourself, I mean.”

“I…I honestly don’t know what’s helping me anymore. It’s like I’ve reached a dead end.”

“Is that why you kissed me the night before we marched to Shiganshina?”

Jean leaves a loud sigh and averts his gaze from Sasha, looking outside the window and trying not to get influenced by her presence next to him. They’ve been in this state for hours, ever since Sasha sneaked in his room to talk, staring at the night outside just like Hitch did in her own room. And despite his promise to himself, despite knowing that Sasha has every right to ask him these questions, Jean feels trapped in the fear that made him put distance between him and Sasha when it was decided that they would march to Eren’s basement.

Sasha had accepted it, silently and without scolding him; he could see that she didn’t agree, but she respected it and he was grateful at her for that. But the night before the battle, during the feast they had, when he saw her so cheerful, so happy, without any worry for the future, everything had come back to him and all distances were forgotten in the one kiss they had exchanged. Filled with fear, but fulfilling for both of them; a silent promise that something good could happen in this mess, an expression of everything they had left unsaid until then.

But then Sasha got seriously injured in Shiganshina, most Scouts got killed and Jean received the grim reminder that this world would keep giving them hell; that the Survey Corps could never be actually at peace. And the turmoil he thought he had avoided returned with all its strength, fighting against the memory of that kiss and clouding his mind to the point he wished he could simply run away with Sasha and escape from everything.

_I know this can’t happen, of course, and Sasha knows it too…we knew it from the moment we enlisted. But still, I can’t help but think about it…_

“The fear of the loss will always exist, Jean.” Sasha tells him in her soft, whispery voice that makes him feel at peace, like she’s the only one who can actually convince him that they don’t have to live in fear. “Whether we take the step or not, it will be there…and this won’t better or worsen our odds, it will just…be there.”

She’s thinking about Hitch and Marlowe right now, who’re going through a similar situation, and she only hopes that they will find the courage to open up to each other about everything. But then Jean’s sigh brings her back to the conversation and she looks at his troubled expression; she knows he has no regrets about their kiss, but she’s afraid that his uncertainty for the future will be stronger than his wish for some positive moments in the middle of the war.

“I get what you’re saying. I really do.” He states, agreeing with her wholeheartedly; whether he likes it or not, Sasha is right, the fear of the loss will always exist and a potential relationship won’t ensure or worsen their odds at survival. “I guess…I guess I’m tired of everything right now…We found the basement…and with the revelations about the land beyond the ocean…”

“You’re afraid it might come to another battle sooner or later, right?” Sasha wants to know, barely holding back her chuckle when she sees him nodding, as if he thinks that he’s childish to fear something like that after everything he’s faced. “Well, guess what…I’m tired too. I’m tired of constantly pushing back all my chances at happiness because of an unknown future.”

“You deserve that happiness, Sasha. That’s the difference.”

“And you don’t? Is that what you’re truly afraid of? That you won’t make me happy and that you don’t deserve any happiness? Oh, please, don’t make me laugh.”

Now Jean _does_ look at her, gasping at her serious expression; the absence of her usual smile reflects how much she wants him to believe her… _needs_ him to believe her. He owes it to both of them and he knows that; hell, he promised himself only that morning that he would finally express everything he has kept hidden until now.

This doesn’t make the fear vanish, of course; if anything, it intensifies it. But as he looks at Sasha right now, at her serious expression, at the tenderness her hazel eyes reflect, at how determined she is not to let fear rule her life, he realizes how truly unfair it would be for her should he continue being distant and cold towards her.

He smiles at her like he’s never smiled before; a soft, loving smile that makes Sasha return it immediately because she knows that he’ll keep this smile only for her. Out there he will remain the tough soldier who makes strategic decisions and hides his emotions, but she knows beyond any doubt that he will trust her with his vulnerability, leaving it to her to give him faith when he needs it.

“So, wanna go raid the kitchen for an early breakfast?” Jean asks her now with a teasing tone in his voice, and he laughs goodheartedly at her smiling widely; after all, he always scolded her and Connie for sneaking in the kitchen for night snacks.

It has a childlike innocence, the enthusiastic way with which she responds, nodding eagerly and jumping in his hug, exclaiming that he’s the best. It’s an innocence that lightens up the dark world they have been thrown into, the world that forced them to grow up so fast; it’s refreshing and transfers joy and peace in him as he presses a gentle kiss against her forehead, just over her bandage. He aches at the memory of how frail and small she seemed, unconscious after getting injured, but he forces himself not to drown in negative memories for now.

_Maybe one day I’ll believe that I deserve positive moments too._

_It’s weird, how expressing everything you have in mind changes you; makes everything seem better even when the entire world has turned into hell_ , Hitch thinks while standing at the entrance of the mess hall, which is bustling with activity as recruits and veterans of all military branches talk amongst themselves. Marlowe is standing beside her, his fingers barely brushing hers, giving her strength for what’s to follow and her new military jacket with the Wings of Freedom emblem creating an odd feeling in her…a feeling of upcoming changes. Her official transfer papers will be signed in a few days according to Hanji, but the Commander is certain that there won’t be any problems or delays with the process.

She feels lighter now, without the previous burdens, and right now she even feels ready to confront any challenge the future will hold at her. Maybe it’s the sight in front of her, the noise of the mess hall, Connie’s voice sounding louder than the others as he teases Sasha, who sits across from him with a calm smile on her face…Jean kissing the top of her head and caressing her hair as he passes by, the two of them obviously without the awkward barrier between them.

_Well, well, apparently the two idiots opened up too._

It’s the only thought that comes in Hitch’s mind before her gaze meets Sasha’s and the other girl’s hazel eyes widen at the sight of the emblem on her jacket. Hitch can almost hear the cogs in her mind working as she combines everything before she leaves a happy shriek that makes everyone turn towards her; the Potato Girl runs and engulfs her in such a tight hug that Hitch leaves a startled gasp and Marlowe lowers his head to stifle his laughter.

“I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” Sasha exclaims with genuine delight and Hitch is caught off guard by how honest she sounds; she would never expect anyone to be happy to have her in their regiment. “Welcome, welcome, Hitch, finally, another girl in the Scouts.”

“Th-Thanks, Sasha,” Hitch mumbles and awkwardly hugs her back, not used in so spontaneous expressions of friendship.

The sound of chuckles makes her look over Sasha’s shoulder and she spots Connie snickering hysterically at his best friend’s craziness. Jean meets her eyes and nods subtly at her; a gesture of respect, as if he’s silently telling her that she did the right thing. Floch, on the other hand, gives her a scowl and shakes his head, like he believes she has been deceived by the Scouts as well and that she’ll get herself killed, but Hitch doesn’t even pay attention to him; after all, she’s taken this decision being fully aware of the risks.

_Everything will change now. I know it. I’ll wake up without knowing whether I’ll be alive by the end of the day…without knowing how much time I have left with my loved ones._

_Well, one thing is sure._

_Nothing more will be left unsaid._


End file.
